Tribulation
by Chelsea Lawton
Summary: A novel about a sixteen year old girl from Clinton Wisconsin who's life is going into turmoil. Her mother is dead, her family breaking, her love lost, and a religous holocaust threatening to take what she had left.


Tribulation

Chapter 1: Nightmare

The darkest corner of my room was not dark enough, even though none of the light from the window could reach my little corner. The room should look like the inside of my head; dark, silent, numb. The room was part of the way there. Items were thrown around the room. The dresser was barricading the door. Everything was falling apart. Ever since the police came to the door. The day my family fell into ruins. The day my heart felt like it stopped beating. The day we found out my mother would not be returning home from her business trip. She had been in a head on collision on the interstate. No one in the crash survived.

I rubbed my eyes that seemed too dry. I could not believe I had not cried over the death of my own mother. I just went into a state of rage and started throwing things, barricading doors, and sleeping in dark corners of rooms.

I pushed myself up from the floor. The pattern of the carpet was engraved on the entire left side of my body. My hands went into the air as I yawned and came back down settling on what used to be my smooth curly hair. I already had a picture of what I looked like in my head. A few short strides toward the mirror on the adjacent wall proved my suspicions. The girl I once saw looking back at me was gone. She was replaced with a monster I had never seen before. Her hair was piled in knots in every direction. Her skin was pale and almost translucent. Her eyes which were once a golden brown with jade sparkles had lost any luster they once possessed. The hair and skin could be easily fixed. The skinny figure and ghostly eyes were another story. Those features could only be fixed with time and a buffet.

I snapped back to reality when I heard footsteps approaching. They came down the hall and stopped behind the door.

"Emily?" A soft familiar voice asked.

_No_ I mouthed to myself. I knew the voice. It was too soft to belong to my father yet too gentle to belong to my brother. The voice belonged to Trevor. One of the boys who worked on the farm. We had classes together almost every year since freshman year. I had a crush on him ever since I first saw his curly blonde hair and misty blue eyes. Sophomore year he started working on our farm. The best part was being able to work next to him; to see his muscles flex and smell him when the wind blew. I hoped soon I would have the courage to tell him how I felt.

"Emily?" Trevor asked again. The door knob rattled behind the dresser.

I looked at the dresser. It stared back as if making a challenge. I walked up to it and started to push it out of the way. It looked like it was going to tip over. Quickly I reevaluated my strategy and started to wiggle it until it moved back to its original place. It was noisy but effective. The door swung open a moment later almost hitting me in the face in the process.

"Emily?" Trevor half yelled.

"What?" I half yelled back.

"What are you doing in here?"

"I was just moving…" my voice faded as I pointed to the dresser.

Trevor shook his head unwilling to judge my actions.

"Anyway," he went on, "I was wondering if I could drive you to school today?"

"That would be…" _what was the word?_ "Nice." _Nice? That wasn't it._

"I'll be waiting for you outside when you're ready."

He closed the door as he left the room.

I ran to the dresser and pulled out the first suitable outfit I found. Once I was dressed I snatched the brush from the floor. My hair was almost smooth and curly again when I decided a hat would have to suffice as my hair-do for the day. The only thing left to grab was the backpack in the corner.

The dog was spanned out at the bottom of the stairs. It was all a ploy. I knew once I got to the bottom the dog would wake up and want to play. He always wanted to play.

Creeping down the stairs as quietly as possible made no difference. The slobber cascade already started. Ares was awake wanting to play. He pushed his body against me until I was in the kitchen doorway.

The room was quiet. When my mother was alive she was always in the kitchen. It was her favorite room in the entire house. There was an eerie silence. I looked around trying to find something to eat on the go. The only edible thing out in the open was a bowl of fruit on the table. Soon the fruit was not the only thing at the table. A perfect image of my mother was sitting at the table. The figure reached for an apple, smiled, then disappeared.

The room started spinning. A wave of nausea rushed through me. Luckily the trash can was around the corner. After a few minutes of purging, the room stopped spinning. I no longer had to support myself with the sides of the can. I coughed a couple of times to shake the taste of bile from my mouth. The hunger passed.

Trevor sat patiently in his car until he saw me leaving the house. His face suddenly contorted into a concerned expression. It didn't take long, once we were together in the car, for him to start bombarding me with questions.

"Are you okay? You look pale."

"I'm fine."

"Are you sure?"

"I think I would know."

"You still want to go to school?"

"I have to. I have finals today."

"Finals aren't until tomorrow."

"My mother's funeral is tomorrow."

There was an awkward silence. Trevor stared out at the road while I stared down at my fumbling hands. It was not the time to tell Trevor how I felt. It was no time to talk at all. It felt wrong to talk.

The rest of the ride was loud with silence. The only sound in the car was made from the air flowing into the open windows. Neither of us dared to turn on the radio. We both had plans we were not willing to deviate from. Trevor was too busy driving anyway. Distracting him would only make the road more dangerous for the up coming pedestrians.

Trevor easily found an uncrowded spot in the back of the oversized school parking lot. He liked being able to escape easily from the building he referred to as prison. Even though I was grateful for the easy escape there was one fact about parking in the back that bothered me; it was a long walk to the front doors. People were already shooting wary glances in my direction. They were all like tigers that just spotted a wounded antelope. My mind was so preoccupied I had not noticed Trevor get out of the car and walk to my door. "Come on Emily." It was not a request but a demand. He grabbed my backpack from the floor and flung it carelessly over his shoulder. His hand thrust out toward me. "It'll be okay," he said not waiting for my hand but grabbing it. He half pulled me from the vehicle. I didn't care. He was holding my hand; spreading a comfortable feeling through my body with his touch. I knew the color had come back to my face.

Students flocked toward us from every direction to offer their condolences. I never understood why people were always saying sorry for things that weren't their fault, but I was enjoying the attention. Especially since the group forming was pushing Trevor closer to my side. The enjoyment of attention wore off. I tried hiding behind him acting like I wasn't there. Trevor caught on after a few seconds. Comments spouted from his mouth about invading my privacy and the grieving process. He made an excellent body guard as we wormed out way through the rest of the parking lot.

Once inside moods changed drastically. Instead of people looking at me with compassion they looked at me as if I were diseased. _Death must be standing just over my shoulder._ Because of me most of the hallway was clear.

"Emily!" A shrill voice shouted at the opposite end of the hall.

Trevor's face formed a toothy grin as I turned to see Melanie running down the hall. She threw her arms open as she ran into me. If she hadn't been such a light weight she would have knocked both of us to the ground.

"Em! You're back!" Even her whisper was shrill.

Her embrace was tight I could hardly breathe.

"I must have gotten weaker."

"What?" she asked innocently.

"You're crushing me."

"Sorry," she responded loosening her grip. Then she squeezed me tighter saying, "but you're back."

"Go thank Trevor. He gave me a ride this morning."

"Well." She walked over to Trevor. "Thank you Trevor." She pressed her lips against his. The two seemed to get stuck to each other. I had to turn away.

The nausea from earlier was returning. Melanie and Trevor making out in the hall was not supposed to happen.

"Em? You okay?" Melanie questioned seeming concerned after she finished kissing the guy I liked.

"Yes…I just remembered…I have to get to class early to take my final."

I did not care if Melanie was going to ask the same question as Trevor. He would be willing to explain. I was more worried about fleeing the hallway like a cat about to be caught in the rain.

The rest of the school day went by annoyingly slow. After two of the final exams the test questions started running together. They made me realize life was like a multiple choice exam. _When the guy you like kisses your best friend do you…A: Tell them what you really think, B: Try not to cry, or C: Act like it doesn't bother you?_ All answers were acceptable for different kinds of people. I happened to be a type C. There was nothing else I could do but move on.

We got out of the parking lot fast. Melanie followed in her own car. By the time we got home the workers were getting ready to go out in the field. Trevor got out of the car and ran over to the group like a delighted puppy. Melanie held Trevor's hand as they walked. I continued past into the house. It was still too quiet. I ran up the stairs trying to escape the silence. My room was still a mess. It was not as bad as I thought. Things were misplaced more than thrown around. As I cleaned up I could hear the voices from the fields. They were walking about my mom. Trying to think of the good times. Every one of them had a funny story to tell. I wanted to laugh but couldn't manage to make the sound.

I had just gotten the floor clear when dad yelled up the stairs. It sounded more like a mumble than a yell.

"What?" I asked going to the top of the stairs to hear better.

"Just wondering if you were planning on coming out to help."

"Of course. I just wanted to fix a few things first."

"See you outside."

I nodded. He vanished through the doorway. It was getting harder and harder to look at him. I had an almost hatred for him. He was supposed to be the protector. The one who should have held onto her. The one who loved her but let her die. I knew it wasn't right to feel that way; it wasn't his fault. But it shouldn't have happened to my family.

I stopped thinking. My mind needed to go numb, to restart like a computer. I walked down the stairs and turned to the living room. The curtains ruffled as the wind blew through them. The piano sat silently in the corner. It had been forever since I played. My fingers wanted to play so bad they were imagining the keys under them. I could hear the imaginary notes play. It was beautiful in the air, but I wanted to hear them for real. I crept over to the piano trying to remember the notes. The piano keys were covered with a thin layer of dust. The dust did not matter to me. The notes would sound the same.

Music notes rang through my head then reverberated down to my hands. They ran through the notes. It was even more beautiful than the sounds my imagination had created. I continued to make up a song. It was taking form. It sounded close to how I felt. Eventually I ran out of creativity. My fingers fell from the keys onto my lap. I threw myself away from the piano and headed outside.

Wind blew past me as I opened the door. In the country it took on a mind of its own. There was never a certain direction it was headed in just anywhere it wanted to roam. The fresh air pushed away the smell of dust. I closed my eyes as the wind blew around me whipping my long hair into my eyes. When I opened them again Trevor was standing a few feet away.

"Hey Emily."

I nodded. _Stop doing that. People will start to think you're traumatized._

"Were you just playing?"

"Yes." _That's better._

"It was really pretty."

"Thank you."

"I never heard you play before."

"Really?"

"I was always on barn duty before."

"Oh."

"You play very well."

"Right. Um. Where is Mel?"

"She's out in the barn. She offered to help."

"Okay."

"Later Emily."

It was the least amount of syllables I ever used in a conversation. It was also one of the most interesting. It still seemed like he liked me.

Melanie came out of the barn with Amelia. I walked across the length of the field to the barn doors. Amelia stomped her hooves as Melanie tied her up. Melanie jumped as she turned to see me watching her.

"We weren't sure how long you would be."

"Sorry."

"Don't be." Her hand plopped down on my shoulder.

"I can take over now."

"You don't have to Emily."

"Amelia's stall needs to be cleaned."

"I know. I'm taking care of it."

"But I need to do something."

"Why don't you go back inside and eat something. You need it."

"Thanks Mel." I said annoyed.

"You know what I mean now shoo."

She pushed me away with one hand. I glanced at Amelia unhappily. I should have been the one taking care of her. At the same time I knew how much I needed to eat. It had been almost four long days since an actual meal was in my path. I needed this. Melanie was right.

Dad found me before I made it back to the house. He questioned me until I told him what I was doing. He agreed with Melanie. He made some frenzied gesture. It looked like a jumping jack with jazz hands. I made an attempt to smile. He pushed me toward the house happily. My stomach growled. Dad had said something about leftovers in the refrigerator. _Probably some friendly sorry your mother's dead casserole._ Imagine my surprise when I opened the refrigerator to find three boxes of pizza. It was a good thing I got to it before break time.

Eating three pieces of pizza was a chore. My stomach was a grenade with the pin missing. I grimaced as I moved slowly out of the kitchen. I made it to my room before I collapsed. Though most of the sheets were in the corner I was sleeping in the bed was still comfortable. I had no idea what made me give it up for three days. My head rested on the pillow. I closed my eyes gently thinking I would listen to the wind until someone came to get me. I was asleep in minutes.

_The sound of the wind was rough and bumpy. I opened my eyes to see if there was a storm. Instead I was sitting in the passenger seat of a car. I looked over to see who was driving; it was my mother. Happiness was an emotion I reached for but could only find horror and confusion. She sat happily driving along the interstate. The music was on and she was making an attempt to sing the words._

"_Mom?" I asked speaking at a volume that would have been noticed._

_She made no response just stared forward. I stuck my hand in front of her face and waved it. Nothing. I tried to act normal. Traffic was starting to build up in front of us. Then the spaces between cars grew longer._

_I looked over trying to remember everything about her I could. While I looked over her face something caught the corner of my eye. A massive black pick-up truck was crossing the center line. It was coming straight for us._

"_Mom!" I screamed. As I watched her face fill with horror I thought she had heard me. _

_The truck was too close. Mom made a desperate attempt to stomp on the break and turn the wheel. The momentum just passed into the care next to us leaving us no exit._

_The truck hit us head on as I threw my hands over my face. I could feel my body shake back and forth. I thought someone said my name._


End file.
